


The Prisoner

by Kalli (Silhouettes)



Series: Star Wars: Jemia's Tale [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Dark Jedi - Freeform, Gen, Grey Jedi, Jedi, Saber Duel, jedi order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 18:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silhouettes/pseuds/Kalli
Summary: Jemia and a small band of her Order crash on a remote planet. A captured Temple Jedi is discovered among the ruins. When Jemia's Master dies, she is uncertain what his plans for her entailed. What will she do when temptation from the Dark Side threatens the Jedi prisoner...and herself?A story taking place before the Prequels, before the Clone Wars. Somewhere around the year 42 BBY in the Star Wars history timeline.





	The Prisoner

Jemia pulled herself from beneath the wreckage that lay across her back. Her young body squeezed through easily. _What happened?_ she thought, trying to clear her mind. She forced herself to remember. _The crash!_ Feelings of pain permeated through the ship. She heard a moan coming from the open doorway. Stopping at the room's entrance, she looked down the dusty corridor, peering through the fading smoke.  
  
"Master?" she called out. Feeling his mind touch hers through the Force, she hurried as best she could through the twisted corridor. The tilt of the floor caused her to lean greatly to the right. She used her hand on the wall to balance herself as she made her way. She felt a ripple through the Force as the other passengers stirred -- the others of her Order.  
  
"Master Rafe?" she called, pulling her torn and dirty cloak closer to her bruised body. Through the smoke, she saw him, tall and unharmed, watching her closely. Behind him, Apprentice Dalvok glared -- or perhaps the smoke distorted her view. She frowned at the emotions simmering beneath the surface. Tugging her cloak free from a slab of jagged debris, she moved closer. "Master, what--," she began.  
  
"Bring me the prisoner," Rafe ordered the apprentice behind him.  
  
Dalvok fumed a moment longer before adorning his battle helmet. Jemia blinked in confusion as she watched the older apprentice stride toward her. He disappeared into a side doorway. The metal floor-plates vibrated as muffled explosions went off somewhere on the ship. She turned back to her Master as the ship rocked slightly.  
  
"Master Ylnaro is dead," Rafe stated flatly. "He died in the crash." His amber eyes focused upon a spot on the ceiling.  
  
"Master Ylnaro?" she repeated. _No wonder Dalvok is angry._  
  
Rafe's gaze refocused onto Jemia. He held up a hand and narrowed his eyes. "We will speak later," he said in a low voice.  
  
"Yes, Master," she responded as Dalvok reappeared, a Human male held tightly in his grip. _Who is the prisoner?_ she wondered.  
  
Rafe turned and passed down the corridor, followed by Dalvok and the prisoner. Jemia followed them toward the ship's exit. By the time she exited the tilted freighter; she heard Dalvok shouting. His muted-silver battle helmet faced her Master, his gloved hands gesturing wildly at the prisoner who now sat on the ground, bound around the wrists and ankles. Dalvok's other hand rested threateningly on the saber hilt at his waist.  
  
"He is a Jedi," Dalvok shouted. "He is responsible for sabotaging the ship and murdering my Master." He removed the saber from his waist and ignited it. "I will gladly kill him as payment." Dalvok moved threateningly toward the prisoner, his crimson blade humming as he moved it overhead for a deathblow.  
  
Another saber ignited. A blur of deep sapphire smoothly blocked Dalvok's attack. "Remove your weapon," Master Rafe instructed coldly as he continued to hold his sapphire saber to the apprentice.  
  
Dalvok turned in anger. "You would let him live?" He narrowed his dark eyes, contemplating killing the older Master.  
  
Feeling the tension about her, Jemia held her own inactivated saber in her hand. She watched closely, waiting for a signal from the Force to tell her when to attack.  
  
"Do not judge me," the older master countered. "The ysalimiri serum has removed his contact with the Force. He is powerless. There is no cause to kill him." He moved his blade against Dalvok's, enticing several crackles of energy between them. "Now, remove your weapon or die."  
  
Dalvok's crimson blade continued to thrum. He tensed and braced a moment, then shut down his saber. He stalked off, throwing another glare at the bound prisoner.  
  
Jemia followed Dalvok's furious stare. The sapphire glow of her Master's blade reflected in the eyes of the prisoner. The Jedi stared back at her silently. His calmness surprised her.  
  
"Do not let his actions fool you, Apprentice," her Master said as he deactivated his weapon.  
  
_Whose actions?_ she wondered. "Master, I was not aware we had a Jedi onboard the transport. What are we to do with him?" She caught a brief glimpse of Dalvok's form as he passed behind the freighter.  
  
Rafe did not respond. He entered the transport and reappeared several minutes later in a partially dented hover-pod. "Guard the Jedi," he told her, and then sped off into the forest that lay beyond the transport.  
  
Jemia watched in confusion as the pod vanished among the trees. _Where is he going?_ She checked on the Jedi prisoner, tightening his bonds. After staring at him in silence, she wrapped an energy binder over his arms and secured it tightly against his chest. She strapped another one around his legs. Satisfied that the Force-less Jedi was not going anywhere, she climbed the ramp into the ship.  
  
After an hour of working on the portable distress beacon, Jemia looked up from her place at the top of the ramp. The Jedi had not moved his position. He continued to stare at her calmly. Where is Dalvok? Jemia started down the ramp. She stopped suddenly, grasping hold of the ramp piston.  
  
Danger reached her through the Force. The danger threatened her. It hovered all around. Her hand instinctively grabbed the saber at her side. She hurried to the bottom of the ramp and into the clearing, igniting her saber as she ran. Her dark eyes fell on the Jedi, who watched her, a slight frown on his face. The feeling of danger clawed at her, but not from the Jedi. Jemia whirled about, searching. _Where is Dalvok?_ she thought again warily. Her orange blade hummed as she moved it before her.  
  
Glancing into the darkening sky overhead, she saw her Master's pod returning. Relief passed through her. Her relief turned into horror as she watched the pod explode into a fireball. The Force connection with him snapped painfully in her mind.  
  
"Master!" Jemia screamed into the darkening sky. She stared at the fireball, her mouth opened in disbelief. The saber fell from her hand, landing on the ground with a sizzle. She saw her Master's form land hard among the trees. Jemia did not need to check for signs of life. She had felt him die. Debris fell around her. With every burning piece that hit the ground, anger burned within her. Jemia let the Force fill her. Darkness fed her anger. It came to her willingly -- through her pores . . . filling her thoughts -- finding every shadowy corner and crevice in her mind.  
  
"Someone will pay," she raged.  
  
Retrieving her orange-bladed saber from the ground, she turned to the Jedi. Raising her arms to bring down a killing blow, danger touched her again. Irritated by the intrusion, senses burning from her immersion in the Dark Side, she whirled wildly at the source.  
  
Dalvok watched her from near the ship. Light from his blood-red blade glowed in the evening darkness, contorting his battle-helmet into a death mask. "Yes, someone will pay for our Masters' deaths." He moved closer. "Kill him, Jemia. Or let me. It doesn't matter who, just as long as the Jedi dies."  
  
The words filled Jemia, adding to the hatred that swelled within her. Yet, somewhere within his words there lay a hidden truth. Her deepness in the Dark Side allowed her to tear into the other's mind with ease. Dalvok recoiled from her sudden assault. He fought to block her but it was too late.  
  
"You are open to me, Dalvok," she hissed, her voice slurred with restrained anger. Her dark brown eyes flashed. "You deceiver. **You** killed them."  
  
"And now _I_ will destroy the Jedi," he responded, not bothering to deny her accusations.  
  
"Master Rafe wanted him alive." Jemia moved closer to the Jedi, blocking Dalvok's view of him.  
  
"Rafe was weak . . . allowing himself to be destroyed by an apprentice. Your Master is no longer here." He laughed coldly, lightly touching his crimson blade to hers. "But _I_ am." He swung the blade around in an offensive move, slamming her blade with his own. "And I will destroy you, as well."  
  
Jemia's orange blade slammed into the side of the freighter under the force of his attack. The metal melted easily from the blade's touch. She pulled her blade back, quickly ducking low as Dalvok's weapon passed through where she recently stood. Jemia didn't hesitate to swing her weapon about, attempting to slice into his side. Dalvok blocked her swing easily. The Dark Side pulsed around them, alive. It fed off their hatred, giving them added energy, which they chose to use in destroying each other.  
  
"I will tell the others what you have done," Jemia said as she frantically blocked another strike from her larger opponent.  
  
"How can you do that if you are dead?" Dalvok growled, lunging at the younger apprentice with the weight of his body, crashing his blade against hers.  
  
Jemia fell back, saber flying from her hands. She watched the weapon sail through the air, deactivating as it rolled on the ground. Dalvok shut down his crimson blade, leaving them in total darkness. Jemia reached outward with her mind, her senses at peak alertness.  
  
Blood red came to being before her. Jemia flipped backwards as Dalvok slashed downward, waving his saber wildly. The glow played harshly across his battle-helmet. But, instead of continuing after her, his direction suddenly changed. He dove at the Jedi.  
  
Jemia reacted quickly as Dalvok's intense emotions rushed through her -- urgency, fury, and betrayal. The Force washed over her, events appeared slowed around her. She watched as Dalvok ran toward the unprotected Jedi. _Why should I stop him? The Jedi are our enemies._ The Dark Side sang seductively in her mind, answering her silent questions. **Let the Jedi die!** She recalled seeing her Master's hover-pod explode, remembered Dalvok's sneer as he told her Master Rafe was nothing.  
  
"Dalvok!" Jemia sprang at him. With the added strength of the Force, she smashed her body into his.  
  
As Dalvok attempted to side step her attack, the bound Jedi moved, tripping him. Dalvok rolled to his feet. Enraged, he turned swiftly, blood blade humming in the night air. Dalvok faced her, nodding slowly. The Force twisted Darkly around him. "You always were the weak one, Jemia." He moved closer, using his reserves in the Force to hold her in place. "Rafe was a renegade. I and Ylnaro were sent to bring him back to the Dark Order . . . for punishment."  
  
Jemia frowned. "Master Rafe was not a renegade. You murdered him!" Her thought-shields slipped slightly at his distraction.  
  
"Then why did he have this Jedi? Why did he tell you not to harm him? Unless, perhaps, he planned to free him?"  
  
Jemia glanced at the Jedi. _Is it possible? Was Master Rafe planning on freeing a Jedi?_ At the edge of her eyesight, she saw Dalvok move closer, his crimson blade humming between them. _He's controlling me!_  
  
Fighting against his hold, Jemia stretched outward and located her weapon. _Dalvok is a liar. He murdered my Master._ _He is responsible._ With each angry thought, the Dark Side filled her more intensely.  
  
"No!" she yelled, grasping her saber with the Force. "You are a traitor to your own Master and the Dark Order." The Force continued to build within her. The saber landed into her hand, orange blade igniting instantly. Breaking free of Dalvok's hold, she swung at him. Dalvok attempted to deflect the attack -- an instant too late. Her saber sliced through the side of his battle-mask. Dalvok cried out in pain. The pain distracted his contact with the Force.  
  
Jemia continued at him, driving him away from the clearing and beyond the freighter. Hatred filled her every movement. Jemia slashed at him again. She continued to drive him back to where the Force led her.  
  
Dalvok brought up his saber for every swing she made as her onslaught intensified. Hoping to retreat and come at her from another side, Dalvok turned and nearly lost his footing at a ledge. Jemia brought her leg up and swung around. Her foot impacted against his abdomen, sending him over. He slipped down the edge, clawing at the dirt.  
  
Jemia watched the crimson blade fall from his hands as he dug his fingers into the ground, trying to pull himself up. The orange glow of her saber shone on Dalvok's scarred battle-mask. She hesitated, then reached downward, offering her hand.  
  
His dark eyes glittered at her from within the wound she had previously inflicted. He reached one hand over the ledge; hate filling his eyes as he gripped her ankle. "Weak to the last," he spat, his grasp tightening.  
  
Jemia raised her saber overhead. Without hesitation, she brought the blade down; slicing neatly into the ground that Dalvok clung to. Dirt still clamped in his fists, Dalvok fell downward into the darkness. Jemia backed away from the ledge and retrieved Dalvok's fallen saber. She felt the Jedi's eyes watching her from the clearing.  
  
  
Jemia opened her eyes to the brightness of morning. Sitting up, she glanced quickly across the clearing. The Jedi sat in his usual bound spot near the freighter. His eyes were closed, but she did not think he was asleep. She eased herself from the ground, body sore from the previous night's encounter with Dalvok. Closing her eyes, she drew on the Force to ease the pain in her muscles. The pain subsided.  
  
Standing in the center of the clearing, Jemia stared at the freighter. It was too damaged from the crash to fly and it didn't appear that her previous efforts at fixing the distress circuit had been successful. The thought of being trapped on this world with the Jedi -- she frowned. She walked up the ramp and entered the freighter.  
  
_What am I supposed to do with him?_ Jemia entered her Master's quarters, hoping to find an answer. She noticed a satchel on a shelf over the bed. Taking it down, she glanced inside to find several small bottles. She slung the satchel on her shoulder and went to the console. After pressing several buttons, she realized that it must have shorted out in the crash. She slammed the console in frustration. "This is getting me nowhere," she said into the emptiness.  
  
Jemia watched her Jedi prisoner from the top of the ramp, trying to decide whether to speak with him. She had nothing to fear, since his powers had been subdued and his access to the Force blocked, if she had heard her Master correctly while he argued with Dalvok on the previous day. The bottles clinked together in the small bag on her hip.  
  
She stood in front of the Jedi. His skin was covered in dirt and smokey smudges. She hesitated. If she asked he would learn that she knew nothing of the mission. She stared down at him, deciding to keep the last promise she made to her master: keep the Jedi safe. With a resolute sigh, Jemia dropped the satchel beside him and turned away.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Jemia straightened, not turning to him. "Do not thank me, Jedi." She narrowed her brown eyes.  
  
  
Several days later, standing in the clearing, the Jedi watched as a transport lowered to the ground. His hair whipped against his face as he glanced away.  
  
The ramp lowered and a young human hurried his way over to the Jedi. "Master, are you unharmed?" When he received no response, he followed his master's gaze upward. In the distance, a cloaked girl stood on a hill, saber in her hand. She turned and headed away, down the other side of the hill. "You want me to go after her, Master?"  
  
"No, Obi Wan, let her be," the Jedi replied. "Her destiny lies elsewhere."  
  
  
_-end_

**Author's Note:**

> The Prisoner is a short story I wrote many years ago and never uploaded. Since then, I've contemplated a further idea involving a different ending. And then what happens? I plan to leave this original ending and keep it as a short story. If I do write the next part, I'll begin it with the new ending and go from there. Then this short story can become a sort of prequel.


End file.
